Fairy tales
by Kplague
Summary: AU. Marceline is a distant Queen of a faraway kingdom. And Bonnibel is the heir to the throne. Placed in a medieval esque setting could be a series of drabbles, or turn into a complete story depending on the readers. -
1. Prologue

There is a kingdom and it sits far off.

Her father is uninterested in it. Naturally he lacks taste for anything that isn't bittersweet. But Marceline, sitting with her axe strapped to her back and boot buckles that glow in contrast against the moonlight, feels drawn to its smell. It reminds her of her late mother's cookies in the oven. It reminds her of sitting in the kitchen with feet kicking. Hambo tight in her clutches. It reminds her running in sunshine and licking her fingertips. And it reminds her of toothaches and a long forgotten mortality. And for fifty long years she simply watches with her nose to the wind. Until watching isn't enough and hastily the vampire kicks off from her windowsill and makes towards it.

She arrives in the shelter of night, but makes no move to disguise her approach. Still the guards do not notice her, and still they do not stop her. And still she sneaks into one of the orchards, grabs one of the big red apples in her calloused palms. Then sets a tooth to the edges and takes a breath. It's a second later that the apple falls to the ground gray and colorless, and Marceline licks her lips and makes for another. Two piles later she's satisfied but still curious. So she dabbles further. And further just until she's hidden in the shadow of the main castle. It's ridiculously easy then to sneak past every guard until she's at the top floor. She taps a finger on a golden knob, elegantly twisting and fading and then she creaks inside and stands at the edge of the bed.

There is a sleeping monarch inside. A little girl pink faded hair and a big wonky grin. She's got a book snuggled close to her chest and if the vampire squints she can read the title crystal clear. "Folklore and mythology, huh kid?" She says quietly landing on the ridden floorboards with a quiet_ – creeeaakk._

She freezes as the little girl shuffles. Watches without taking a breath as she moves small fingers to her eyes to rub tiredly. "Mister Peppy,'' she says quietly. Yawns. "Im sorry, I fell asleep while reading –" But she stops. Pausing as she catches wind of the monster at the edge of the bed. But by the time the sleep is rubbed from her eyes Marceline is out of the window and straining bat wings into the night's sky.

Unknowingly, the next day the little candy kingdom monarch acts out a strange dream. And skips forward in her book to the chapter about vampires.

It's years later,

And the candy kingdom princess likes to think she doesn't believe in fairy tales anymore.

But she still believes in vampires.


	2. Bookmarked

Bonnibel has a plethora of responsibilities. She has meetings to attend, and negotiations with other kingdoms. She's got a tailor scheduled for noon to fit a dress that will have to be finished no later than six. And then she has to dance with the other monarchs, and she has to smile at them, and she has to pretend their jokes are funny and their hand isn't too low on her back. But though she's responsible, her interest wans and she's of course late. Buried in the early morning within books again. Peppy says it'll be the death of him as he reschedules her day. And Bonni cant help but grin fondly as he gives her another of his notorious morning pep-talks. She thinks he's probably the closest thing to a father she's ever had. Even if he's honor bound to serve her.

The little short man has been a heavy influence throughout her life. Even though he has the temper of a kicked cat and he smells like peppermints – she thinks he's a great regent. And knows when she get's coronated she does not want him to fade into retirement. It is Peppy's lessons that have stuck through, and the peppermint man's image she lives in. The picture of her two parents, strangers lost, serve as nothing more than shadows of his influence. Though she hears countless tales of her father's bravery, and her mother's generosity. Bonnibel cannot help but wonder if it amounts anything to the immortal wisdom and loyalty the little man holds. She thinks that she wants to be like him one day too. Maybe a little bit.

And so she is.

And Peppy would never shrink responsibility. No matter how crass it might be.

It is night by the time the party starts and her dress fits perfectly. Complimenting her form enough that she receives praise from the first few guest. Including the king of ice who has always had quite the eye trained on her since she came of age. He slides away and she turns her attention to a much more welcome faced. "It is nice to see you again Larissa." She says as she shakes the hand of the "lumpy space" Princess. A girl who hates politics almost as much as she does. She'd much rather spend her time gossiping in her kingdom far off in the clouds whereas Bonnibel might much rather spend her freedom in philosophy. "_Oh my glob_!" The princess says. Crosses the distance to take Bonni into a tight hug and squeeze entirely too tightly. "Larissa,'' She laughs and plants a hand awkwardly at the small of the woman's back and presses. "It's only been three months." But of course three month's is a long time for friends to not keep in touch and sending birds are entirely too frivolous these days. Well, that and Larissa insisted on absolutely secrecy and the idea of her juicy gossip in the wrong hand was terrifying to her. As frightening as any ghoul.

"Three months is too long! Like, I have sooo much to tell you! You know Brad? Let me tell you what he totallyyy did!" And before LSP can fall off into a tangent about Brad, Bonni smiles politely and set's a hand on her shoulder. Pulls back. "Later. I promise. Don't you want to hear of Lady? She's gotten bigger again." LSP considers her for a moment through narrowed eyes, but makes a sound in her throat before glancing around the afternoon party excitedly. "Where is she?" She says. But Bonni merely hooks their arms together and walks towards the table. "You know Lady cant be in here." The guest weren't to fond of the monarchs pet unicorn. Maybe even unnerved by her fierceness and magic ability. She'd been given as a gift to the princess when she was but a babe and they'd grown up together, everyone said it was expected that such a rare creature become nothing short of scarily intelligent under the nurse of the Princess. And everyone avoided her as they might have avoided a private council with Bonnibel. Well, besides a handful of the girls Bonni had grown up with.

"God she's your flipping friend!" Larissa argues but the pink haired girl says nothing. Shows her robust friend to her seat politely and smiles. "She understands. It was her suggestion actually." She argues. And LSP quiets and get's comfortable. Leaving the princess to go back to the entrance and meet all of the other's personally.

It's a drone routine. Shaking hands and smiling. Greeting and saluting. And she's glad by the time she's done, eager to sit down and get the conference over and done with. She's just turned around from, what she thought the last of her guest coming in. But when everyone looks up and gapes, the princess of the candy kingdom spins on her heels. And there, leaning on the podium with a grin. Is a fairy tale sprung from the pages. She hears the wail of LSP far off. And she stupidly asks a second later

"Who might you be?"

And watches the strangers eyes narrow as she takes Bonni's hand, reaches down and lays a kiss on the pale white knuckle. Blowing hot air a moment later as she says "Queen Marceline." There's more gasp across the table, and she thinks that maybe one of the monarchs faints. But Bonnibel makes no move to see as she stares, unwavering, into Marceline's red tinted eyes, some shred of familiarity clicking. "Have we met..?" She says in quiet suspicion. And the vampire smirks at her sharply, "I wouldn't imagine so." Then licks her lips and dances around the princess and strides to her seat confidently like she's floating.

And suddenly, she doesn't want the meeting to end. Because though this woman looks normal at first glance Bonni cannot get the image of that one fang hanging just past red lips, glowing bright.

And she cannot forget the image hidden in a dusty book, hanging crookedly from her book case. Of a woman, hair as dark as night and smile as thick as molasses with bat wings and milky fang. And the old crinkled bind of leather that has carved into it – "Vampire" that marks the page.


	3. Balcony

Her interest is as subtle as a knife through gut. Marceline knows that Bonnibelle likely thinks herself clever. Sneaking sly abashed gander between those long eyelashes of hers when she thinks Marceline isn't paying attention. A thousand years and little details have yet managed to escape her ravenous curiosity - or maybe it was paranoia now.

A thousand years and she has yet to develop patience.

And she lacks it to the point of rudeness, rising mid negotiation under the guise of using the facilities. A lot of the others know what she is (Marceline can smell their fear as well as a starving shark can smell blood) but none of them truly know the limitations of her kind. They get glorified information from text books or fairy tales that collaborate and contradict like bright interchangeable ribbons. Leaving the true wonders a vast and unknown creative freedom. All for the better to take advantage of.

Callused palm set on table side the great Queen hoist herself up and glides away. Mumbling thinly veiled half assed apologies as she glides through bailey and - after a quiet mischievous glance - up stairwell to a balcony to sneak some craved privacy.

It's nightfall and the candy kingdom is reticent. Crude jags of velvet blue and violent viola stretch on; amaranthine. The stars descend like gaping pale eyes hungry for description. Painting the void in vicious garbled wrist strokes and dabbles.

Marceline leans her elbows on the railing, gazing somewhat dreamily on until the night sky and far past the meetings conclusion. She's so lost in her maze of thought that she hardly snaps too when soft footsteps grace the cobblestone floors. The woman of the night gracing her with a sought out audience.

"You never returned." she says curiously stepping forward with tired eyes loosely edged with pining curiosity. Marceline smiles something private, tilting her head fractionally to glance at the hostess through lidded eyes. "Oops." she says after a moment, shrugging carelessly with amusement. But the statement instead seems to anger Bonnibelle as the smile flits from her face and fades into a tightly knit frown.

"Careful," Marceline begins smugly, whirling on her heels and leaning back. Skinny elbows catching her from a mighty plummet. "You're face'll get stuck like that if you do it much." A crude expression crosses the princess's face but Marcelines smirk does not wear thin until the woman speaks matter of factly,

"Actually," she starts "there are a number of birth defects and disorders that cause this. A stroke however would be the most plausible given the situation. During a stroke, the flow of blood to the brain is interrupted. This can leave parts of the brain unable to function. If the portion of the brain that controls facial movement is damaged, the face will not be able to move."

Marceline stares at her blankly, the princess choosing that moment to leap for the jokes throat and mar it with glass teeth to vermillion shreds of bits and piece.

"However the only thing likely to give me a stroke is your tardiness."

Now it's Marcelines turn to frown.

"Hey! What, upset that nothing was in the room to stare at?" she demands, a hiss gathering at the ball of her tongue. Maybe she expects the monarch to relent back into politeness and grace - maybe she expects Bonnibelle to lift up dress edge and go fleeing for guard - but neither of which she gets the satisfaction of seeing. The woman rises to her threat stubbornly instead.

"Staring is rude!" she huffs, in which Marceline responds, "So is tardiness. But you don't see me denying it." She makes a noise with her teeth and tongue before cocking up the corners of red lips and rising bottom onto the railings edge." Maybe We are just rude people. Admitting it is the first stepping stone to acceptance, Princess Sweet."

Bonnibelles eyes nearly bug out of her head as she alarms, unsure of what to do as Marceline teeters back in a mocking see saw motion. Back and forth - back and forth- over the cliff of the third story balcony. "Stop!" she cries. "What're you doing?"

"Shhh," Marceline mocks. "Do you hear the wind? It's calling to me..."

"Seriously - it is dangerous to be rocking like -"

"Mmmmmmaaaarrrrceeellinnnneeee ..." she whispers harshly, rising and lowering octave in a rudimentary mimic of a otherworldly voice. Bonnibelle takes a worried step forward, reaching partly before dropping hand.

"This isn't funny." Bonnie wails, red cheeked.

"Who's laughin'?" Marceline says, and falls backwards.


	4. Security

She's too shocked to scream.

MArceline falls backwards into empty air and Bonibel just stares with empty eyed terror. It's a full ten seconds before she's able to catch herself and lunge forward to peer curiously over the railings edge. Expecting some shattered woman and brain matter. But whatever brutal image she's expecting isnt there. Instead Marceline is all in one piece. Landing in some disturbing crouch, bent over with a crook and arch of spine that's simply not natural. But she's alive, and conscious, and smug and the Princess feel a breath of relief release. Followed by a temper flaring like a stricken match.

"You! - You! - Imbecile!" She screeches. Losing her patience with the Vampire Queen. Marceline at first glance had been enigmatic, even charming. Now Bonibel couldnt help but think she was some unruly, mischevious, and rude imp of a woman. Smiling with glittering fangs and night in her eyes. "You almost gave me a heart attack!" She exclaims, sets a small palm over her heart as if to testify.

"Stroke," The dark haired woman reiterates from below. "Stroke you mean."

Bonnie pales, taking a moment to gather her wits before retorting, voice betraying irritation, ''Please tell me you did not hurl yourself over my balcony because you told a poor joke." She'd like to think this woman was not on some high horse - that they were equals in royalty and therefore inclined to certain traditions and behavior civility. But when Marceline's eyes narrow, and she does not argue her case. Bonnie knows she'd jumped to assumption.

"I was trying to impress you." The vampire says. Shrugging casually and looking thoughtful.

Bonnie, not knowing the fiend, takes the bait. ''Oh? Dont you thinkt here are other ways to gain my fav-?" But stops mid-sentence as the vampire flits like a movie reel. Once upon a time there, on the ground a story below - and all of a sudden right in her face. No frames between. Bonnie tries to recover from her shock, but notices she'd developed a stutter. ''F-favor?"

Marceline balance on her wrist for a moment, swinging over the edge like a gymist before sitting at the edge and lifting one foot to plant it up. Leaning forward with balanced ease to invade the Princess's personal space. "Do I make you nervous?" The girl says, but Bonnie recovers a bit faster then their previous tirade. Twirling stubbornly to show her back to Marceline.

"You are really arrogant." She states, matter of factly. She could almost hear Marceline smirk. "You know," The vampire starts, making some clicking noise with her teeth before blowing unabashedly at Bonnibel's exposed neck. "most people wouldnt dare to speak to me this way." It's a indirect hit, one that makes the princess both blanch and puff up with rage. She choose to act on rage rather fear (because she still does not know what this woman is before her, and as likely as she wants to forget her little stunt - she cannot.) and whirls to meet the Queen's gaze.

"What way?" She says red face with offense.

Marceline catches the drop in her voice and turns her eyes from the Princess's blue eyes to rest on her idignant lips. She makes a small movement - perhaps a clue to her own discomfort - before blowing another teasing whuff of hot air at the monarch's chin. Rising up dark eyes a second later to settle on vibrant blue. "Like I'm a child." She explains. With all the while her tone reiteration, as if we are equals.

"But.. But you cant be any older then eighteen. That's only a two year gap even." The candy kingdom monarch says, never breaking eye contact.

"Is that what your story book says?"

Bonnie falls silent. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Story book? What story book? Did Marceline know about her book of fairy tales? How? When? She's trapped in paranoia as Marceline leans backwards, turning smoothly to dangle her legs back over the bannisters edge. "Later Princess sugar," she says. Disappearing over the edge. And taking more than just the Princess's sense of security with her.


End file.
